• Published 6th Nov 2016
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Order and Chaos - Tatsurou



Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness, raises Discord, the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. You have been warned.

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Agonizing Sanity

Sheogorath stared at the Obelisk that had arisen on the very walk to his throne room. He could see it without even rising from his throne, and Knights of Order already surrounded it. If ever he needed indisputable proof of the approach of the Greymarch, here it was. And yet, despite his best efforts...he had failed. The March was coming too soon, the 3rd Era not yet ended. The event that would trigger it was to take place in 433, and it was only 430. And yet the Greymarch had already progressed to the point where he would soon revert to Jyggalag...and then everything would fail.

He had known this was coming, known it would come always. He had also known that true understanding of it would destroy Discord, which was why he was glad he had bonded mutually to so many other Daedric Princes. They would protect him from what would come. Sheogorath had hoped a hero would have arisen by now, one whom he could coax into the Shivering Isles and lead along the quests to stop the Greymarch, so that they would take up the mantle of Sheogorath. That would free him to be Jyggalag...and to either bond with Discord as Jyggalag or leave Discord unaware of the truth. Because if the Greymarch continued unopposed...when he became Sheogorath again, he would have lost the emotional bond of the memories with Discord. It would be like reading about it in a book, not experiencing it himself. To look at Discord without that genuine affection of the bond...it would destroy Discord, and Sheogorath would only find it amusing. The mere thought withered his soul.

And now all his options were taken from him. Before the sun set this day, the transformation would complete himself. He couldn't let Discord see it.

Hearing singing, he lifted his head to look. Discord was dancing his way back to the Isles from the Quagmire. He had obviously been to see Vaermina again. Sheogorath couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face from knowing his son had found love. Love...a concept he'd never even thought about before the mismatched mischief maker had appeared, and now it was both a blessing and curse upon his being. He didn't recognize the song Discord was singing, but it apparently involved making the air around him play a lot of bass.

"You are my light in the dark
You are the beating in my heart
But that is not enough
Will I ever being by your side?"

Well, wherever he came across or came up with the song from, it was obvious he was singing about Vaermina. He was in such a good mood, skipping gaily around the islands as he made his way towards the castle. Sheogorath felt his heart shrivel in his chest as he knew he would have to shatter that good mood...and a great deal more. Discord was his son, and he would protect him from this if it was the last thing he did.

As he thought that, he felt a stab in his core as Jyggalag flexed, and more Knights of Order appeared around the Obelisks. How apropos, he thought to himself. It will be the last thing I do as me... Schooling his features, he put a wrathful expression upon his face. This would be the hardest thing he ever did.

Discord danced into the palace, his singing fading as he saw Sheogorath's angry expression. "Dad, is something wrong?" he asked worriedly. "Did my singing upset you? I can pick another genre, I know that one's not for everyone..." He waved his lion paw, dispelling the heavy beats.

Sheogorath stood slowly, glaring down at Discord. "Gather your belongings," he instructed firmly. "Then make your way to the Ashpit. Malacath will welcome you."

Discord smiled widely. "Oh, a sleepover? I haven't had one of those in a while. But does it have to be in the Ashpits? I love Malacath's realm, but everything's so public, and Vaermina's really rather private about those things-"

"It isn't a sleepover," Sheogorath barked out. "When you have taken all that is yours from here to the Ashpit, you are to never return."

Discord stopped cold, his face becoming stricken. "B-but Dad! This is my home!"

"No longer!" Sheogorath snarled out, though the look of agony on Discord's face made his heart shrivel. "Out of my realm, out of my life! You are banished!"

"Dad, why?" Discord wailed, tears running down his cheeks as he lunged forward, clinging to Sheogorath's robes. "If I've upset you, I can fix it! Please, just tell me what I've done! Was it Peryite? Is it being with Vaermina? Was it rejecting the Dark Seducers? If it's something I've done, I'll undo it! If it's something I haven't done, I'll do it! Just please don't send me away-"

"ENOUGH!" Sheogorath roared, his voice causing the palace to crumble into the sky as multi-colored ravens that cawed like foghorns. "I am still Prince of Madness, and this is my Realm! My authority is final, and you are exiled from these lands!" He resolutely turned his back on his son.

Weeping, Discord vanished.

Sheogorath waited until he could no longer sense Discord in the Isles, and then sank to his knees and wept like a brokenhearted child. It was better this way, he told himself. Better Discord never look upon him again thinking he hated him...then to come back and see him not know him. But he would have done anything - anything - to have spared his son this pain. "Would that I could die for thee, my son," he whispered, wishing any amount of pain to himself to spare Discord this pain.

Tears fell against a Fell Iron mask as Jyggalag rose at the edge of the Isles. The curse would be obeyed. He would march through the Isles, and erase all that was there. All record of Sheogorath, all record of Discord...all record of the Isles themselves. The curse would not restore itself until the Era ended, and the Isles would be cleansed well before then, leaving Jyggalag with plenty of power and time to act.

He could not go to Discord after wounding him so. Even if the truth were believed, it would not be accepted. And there was no life without love. No purpose without hope. All that was left in the gap of time between the curse no longer driving him and the curse binding him anew...was to make of himself the Ultimate Expression of Order. "And I can never say goodbye..." he mumbled, his voice echoing within his helm as the Knights began their march, the cadence of their steps a metallic dirge.